


Steve Rogers' Fandom Diaries

by coulsonbaby



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Mansion, Characters Reading Fanfic, Crack, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Multi, Post Avengers (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coulsonbaby/pseuds/coulsonbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers had been the first superhero, after all. Is it really so crazy to think that all of the Avengers had... admired him at some point growing up?</p><p>No.<br/>No, it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers' Fandom Diaries

**Author's Note:**

> So I am going to finish a bunch of projects I've started in the past, this being one of them. It's going to be funny, I promise.
> 
> Also, there will probable be five more chapters.
> 
> Additionally, anyone want to guess what the fanfiction is Steve was reading? And who the next fandom relic will belong to?

I remember it very clearly- the day it all started. It was the very first day all the Avengers were moving into the "Avengers Mansion." Stark had set it up to accommodate the lot of us, and I was honestly very impressed. Despite the fact that there was a whole lot of technology I didn't understand ingrained into daily life there, it was still almost homely. I think the fact that we had all grown so close of late must have been a variable in the equation, because the entire building was, all in all, alien to me. The only familiar things there were my friends and the relics from my past Stark had had set up in my room- I was told by the others, later, that he had done the same for all of them as well, and that was something I found uncharacteristically considerate and thoughtful of him. Then again, he could have done everything simply to show off that he could- and that was something all too familiar in Tony Stark.

Apparently the mansion was the same one he had grown up in, and he had donated it to SHEILD to house all of us. This I know because when he was giving us the grand tour (my room was the last stop, after everyone else was gone to get situated) he explained to me (with apologies) that it was his old room from when he was a kid. I was actually slightly amazed, because it was so large. When I was a kid, I had been given the smallest room in the house to sleep in. I was just a kid, after all.

After he made sure all my bags were there and that I was comfortable, he left to allow me to acclimate myself to my quarters. There was a large bed against one wall, a set of shelves covering the entirety of another, and numerous other gadgets scattered throughout- on the shelves, the side table, mounted on the wall. I located the closet on the far side of the room and dragged my suitcase over to sort out my clothing.

I didn't have much at the time, as I had only recently been reintroduced to the world, but I had enough to fill out an entire rack knowing I would obtain some more clothing at a later time. As I surveyed my work, making sure that all the shirts were organized by colour and style and that my shoes were set in a straight line, I noticed something up in the corner of the closet, sitting in the shadows on a shelve.

There were two cardboard boxes, labeled in messy print that was hard to make out. I drew them down and carried them to the bed, dumping out the contents and tossing the now-empty boxes off to the side.

What I was faced with was nothing I could have expected.

It was me.

A whole lot of me.

Scrambling to the floor, I grasped one of the boxes in my hands and frantically read the labels. "Captain America Things," read the first label; and the second, "Tony's Things (8-13)." I gaped at the boxes for a moment before returning to the objects now spread sloppily across the bed. Slowly, I picked up and observed every item- there were action figures, gum wrappers, trading cards, posters, toy shields, a Halloween costume, even a set of ridiculous footie pyjamas. The entire scenario freaked me out a bit. What the hell was Tony doing with action figures of me in his closet? It was weird, and very, very disturbing.

As I picked through the pile, I eventually got to the bottom where I found a sloppy stack of loose-leaf paper, stapled together into two bundles but still leaving a few pieces free of any binding. I first looked at the more singular pieces, which where all terrible crayon drawings or doodles of what looked like it was supposed to be me. I turned then to one of the stapled bundles, and found some scrawled out quotes- things I remember having said before. It looked like there were some dates and titles of magazines or newspapers as well. Placing that down gently I lifted the other stapled stack of paper, titled like a story. I didn't really understand what a "Captain America Fanfiction" meant at the time, but I flipped through it regardless, stopping to read the last page.

_"I will help and save you!" said Captain America. He threw his shield. The shield bounced off the wall and then it bounced off the ground and then it bounced off a truck that was driving past him. It was spinning really fast so it was like a knife. It cut the ropes and she fell down but it was okay because Captain America caught her in his arms because he was really strong._

_"Are you okay?" Said Captain America._

_"I am very okay." She said._

_"That is good I am glad to help." He said._

_"Oh, you are so dreamy." She said._

_And then she kissed him on the lips but it didn't last very long because Hitler appeared next to them._

_"Drop the girl Captain America so I can shoot you in the head!" He said._

_"But I am not a Jew." He said. The girl ran away and hid in a store where they gave her some food._

_"I don't care." He said._

_Then Captain America punched Hitler in the face and saved the day._

_-THE END-_

I blinked a few times and stared at the page, unable to process the atrocious whatever-I-just-read. It was terrible. It was insulting, and scary, and disturbing. And terrible!

And the worst part was, right beneath the title, it read, "By Tony Stark."

I was appalled. Without thinking I ran from the room, "Captain America Fanfiction" in hand.

"Stark!" I called, as I wandered the halls, "Stark where are you?" I turned a corner into the kitchen and ran directly into the man I had been searching for.

"Damn, watch where you're going," he complained, rubbing his head, "what do you want? Could you just not go one hour without being in my presence?"

"No." I thrust Captain America Fanfiction into his face. "I want to know what the hell this is."

Stark lazily snatched the papers from my hand, flipping quickly through them as recognition spread over his face. "Holy shit…" he mumbled under his breath. "Where the hell did you even find this?"

"In a box. In the closet. I just want to know what it was doing there."

"Look," he said, "let's just forget this ever happened, okay? The both of us. Just go on with our lives and, eh, you can give me the stuff from the box too."

"What, forget this? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Oh please," he said sarcastically, tossing the papers on the counter, "you think you're embarrassed? I'm the one who wrote that piece of crap! You'll be fine."

"There were boxers. With my face on them."

"Again! I'm the one who wore them!" I couldn't help noticing that he was almost… pleading. Didn't he understand how creepy this was for me? Working on a team with someone, and then finding out they wrote stories about me when they were a kid and that they wore Captain America footie pyjamas? He was being awfully selfish.

"I honestly don't think there's any way I could forget this." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "It's pretty creepy, Stark."

"Okay, fine, but can we at least not mention it?" That seemed like a good compromise. Neither one of us talk about it. Ever again. Still wouldn't change how weird I would feel around him from then on, but at least it was something.

"Sure. Fine, yeah. Just one more question."

"What now?"

"What's a Fanfiction?"

A mischievous grin spread over Tony's face as he pulled out his tablet from a drawer and gestured for me to sit beside him at the table. "It's basically when a fan of something writes a story about it. So a fan of Jersey Shore would write stories about the characters from that show. It's like writing a story, you just use other people's characters. Or, in your case, real people."

Tony was navigating the internet, something I still didn't understand, and was on a site called " ."

"What are you doing?" I inquired curiously.

"Looking some up for you. There is a whole ton online, and people haven written more since the Avengers became a thing." I decided to ignore the fact that he knew that as a smirk spread over his lips. "Ah, here we go," he said with a chuckle, clicking on a story and passing the tablet to me.

I read one paragraph, and then…

_"What the hell?"_

-TBC-


End file.
